


Hallowed Ground

by TheTiniestFish



Series: TMA Just Add Werewolves AU [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Sasha James Lives, Werewolf Sasha James, let me know if i should tag anything else, unfortunately for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTiniestFish/pseuds/TheTiniestFish
Summary: Sasha James survived the attack on the Institute, but not without a little... souvenir.A year later, Jonathan Sims finds himself stalked through the tunnels by a wolf who hasn't transformed in far, far too long. And she is hungry.
Relationships: Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: TMA Just Add Werewolves AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650115
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Hallowed Ground

He has to keep running. He has to keep running. He has to keep running.

The thought echoes around and around in his head until he’s dizzy and he has no idea where he’s going, or what turns he’s made. All he knows is that slowing isn’t an option, as his lungs burn and he’s painfully aware of the fatigue in his limbs. He keeps running.

He shouldn’t have touched that table- stupid. It was so stupid of him- especially on a night of the full moon. It had been keeping her in check, stopping Sasha from transforming. He thought it was the source of the curse, but things are never that simple or neat and easy. Stupid. Martin’s transformation hadn’t come from any table, why would this be any different? 

When he had seen that scar upon Sasha’s arm, along with the strange way the light had hit her eyes, he had been so certain. He had been so totally sure that breaking that table would help her. But the web, the way it drew you in- it had to be something else. It had been holding her terrifying new nature back, not tying her to some curse. Whatever this is, it hadn’t been the table’s fault. It’s difficult to shake the feeling that somehow it's his.

He keeps running, shoes beating against old stone, but every wearied footstep reminds him that he is tiring. He cannot keep this pace up. He is so very aware that Sasha is not nearly so limited by… human factors. He has never been one for looking out for his health, but even as he pushes himself to the edge of his endurance, he knows that the creature following him down the twisting, turning corridors makes a leisurely pace as it stalks him through the dark. It only needs to wait until he tires, and that time is approaching fast.

A howl echoes through the tunnels as he makes another left, then a right and a turn he barely registers. His legs are burning, old wounds from the Institute’s siege making themselves known for the first time in months, itching across his body. He feels the aching down to his very bones. He doubts in his mind that even before the attack he could have kept this up, but here, with the pain and fatigue making the air feel like syrup, he knows it’s only a matter of time before it catches up and tears him apart.

He tries not to think about what happens after.

“JooOOOoon! I know you’re there!”

He tries very hard, even as he is surrounded by the growls and barks of delight that echo in the tunnel around him. He tries not to imagine how his friend has been entirely consumed by terrifying instincts, her voice distorted into a growl (there’s no way Sasha would really choose this, drunk on the hunt, would she? No- She wouldn’t. He has to believe that). He tries very hard not to think about the joy in her voice as she hunts him down, the merciless glee. He has to hope that come morning, she’ll be able to change back, that she won’t have to remember what she will do tonight. Despite everything she’s been changed into, Sasha doesn’t deserve that. 

And then he glances behind him. And he immediately knows he has made a mistake.

A pair of eyes hang in the air, reflecting what little light pervades the gloom. The creature behind him is in no rush. Humans are pursuit predators. Why chase with speed when you can just keep going until your prey can’t run away anymore? It figures that it would be that part of her humanity she would keep. The creature is playing with him, he’s sure. At any point it could finish this, but still it follows and it smiles and it waits. They both know that there are only two ways that this can end.

He’s not sure which option he’d prefer, but he knows in his gut that the choice will not be his. He doesn’t want to die here. He doesn’t want to die alone, but for the sick smile of that blasted predator, blood pooling on the floor. Maybe they wouldn’t find his body. Gertrude’s hadn’t been discovered for months, and he’s hardly swimming in human connection these days. He wants to live. He doesn’t want to be left for some poor replacement to find. Maybe they, too, will find themselves in the grip of paranoia at the discovery. Maybe they will do something terrifyingly stupid, and find themselves in these tunnels, prey to the starving bloody beast that roams the corridors.

No. He has to survive this- no matter the cost. He will not doom another to this place.

Still, the terror filling him him at the idea of joining that creature as it roams the dark, enjoying the chase at some poor fool’s expense, is difficult to ignore.

He needs to keep going. The thought continues to bang around his cluttered head even as he turns a corner and collapses on the floor. Pain shoots through his leg.

He needs to get up. He needs to move, but the thought does nothing to raise him off of the ground. He is utterly spent.

“Jon, you know, I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to kill you yet. Maybe I’ll just make you like me. It’s anyone’s guess,” his friend’s voice tells him, all too cheerful. “But we’ll have our fun first, won’t we, Jon? It’s the least you deserve.”

The voice is too loud now, too close.

Jon looks up.

The creature smiles at him, long canines filling its sharp mouth, its hands clawed, trapped mid-transformation. Feral.

“Found you.”

She draws closer, claws scraping slowly against stone in drawn out motions. Jon tenses up, waiting for the end, looking away as her warped shadow falls over him in the dim light. She hangs back for a moment, savouring the sweetness of his fear, oh-so-human and trembling in the dark.

She stills, just for a second, and for a moment Jon’s breath catches- is she letting him go? Is she-

-Then he feels it lunge, a hair’s breadth away from him. And it’s going to kill him or worse, and either way Jonathan Sims dies here and he’s resigning himself to his fate, cowering in that dark tunnel, breath hot on his face- when he hears an inhuman shriek and a crash and suddenly she’s not there and he’s lying on the ground shaking as the very earth shifts around him and another shadow falls over him and he’s trapped and he’s going to die and he’s-

He’s… alive?

There’s a ringing in his ears, carved out by that haunting scream  
He looks up, and the face of an old man peers down at him over wire-framed glasses.

“Mr Sims?”

“...Yes?”

“I think it’s time we had a talk.”

\----

As Jon follows Leitner through the tunnels, his mind is still reeling. It had been such a close call. Even in Jane Prentiss’ attack, he hadn’t cut things so fine. He had practically felt the creature’s claws rake across him, it’s hot breath close to his face. As much fear and hatred and disgust he harboured towards Leitner, he had to admit the man had good timing.

That said, as excellent as Leitner’s timing had been, it hadn’t stopped him from falling to the ground. He hadn’t landed well, and as he had stood he had immediately felt the throbbing pain of a pulled muscle and the bruises from his sudden impact. He hasn’t had time to check his injuries yet, his veins still pumping with adrenaline, but he knows that they should probably hurt for a few days. At least he is still alive to ache. And oh god, does it hurt, as he half-limps along the hallways, his ribs still burning from the heavy breathing and his body feeling like it’s on fire from all the abuse. The stabbing pain in his leg still leaves him gasping when he leans on it with just that little bit too much weight.

It’s not really something to worry about, all things considered. It would heal, in time. 

He follows Leitner up, and out of the dark.

By the time he reaches his office, it barely hurts at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago, but here it is finally!


End file.
